


all this (and love, too)

by skyclectic



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: 3mix is the best mix, Best Friends, Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/F, Fools in Love, Friends to Lovers, except them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyclectic/pseuds/skyclectic
Summary: This is how it should be. This is how the three of them were always meant to be.-----Or the one where everyone thinks Nayeon, Jeongyeon and Jihyo are already dating, and how the three of them come to the same realisation themselves.
Relationships: Im Nayeon/Park Jisoo | Jihyo/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 219





	all this (and love, too)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slicki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slicki/gifts).



> This was commissioned by @slicki aka @2yeonaus on twitter. Thank you very much for trusting me to write this 3mix and giving me such a great prompt to work with :D

Nayeon falls asleep in the middle of Jeongyeon and Jihyo’s argument about who won the water gun fight they had earlier. Normally, she would chime in with a spirited yell or two, but spending the day running up and down the JYPE building avoiding zombies and solving clues has exhausted her. Nayeon’s also far too comfortable, getting soothed to sleep by the gentle drumming of Jihyo’s fingers against her stomach and the way Jeongyeon has one foot hooked around Nayeon’s ankle.

It’s not the first (and probably not the last) time she slips into sleep to the sound of her best friends bickering.  
  


Nayeon wakes up in the middle, sandwiched between two sets of soft, even breathing. Jeongyeon’s arm is half-draped across her chest and Jihyo is curled up on her other side, fingertips reaching across Nayeon’s body and just barely brushing Jeongyeon’s hip.

The morning light from the window is grey and dimmer than Nayeon had expected. For a moment, Nayeon thinks the sun isn’t fully up yet, but then she registers the gentle patter of rain outside the window. A smile steals over her face and Nayeon lets herself sink back into Jeongyeon’s extremely comfortable bed.

She doesn’t always love rainy days, but there’s nowhere else that Nayeon would rather be. She’s almost drifting off again when her phone beeps, rudely interrupting the peace. It’s the alarm tone Nayeon always sets when she has to get up for a schedule. With a small groan, Nayeon remembers that she’s supposed to be at the hair salon in an hour. Miraculously, Jeongyeon and Jihyo’s steady breathing don’t falter — both still lost to their dreams or the exhaustion from a full day of filming.

Carefully, Nayeon slips out from the loose embrace she’s being held in. The bedroom is chilly, but there’s an oversized hoodie hanging over the end of the bed and Nayeon reaches for it. She slips it on, catching the faintest hint of lilac from Jihyo’s perfume clinging to the warm fabric.

Now that she’s properly up, she can see the beautiful storm raging outside — the way the rain coaxes the last remaining red and gold leaves off the trees and sweeps them across the sidewalks. Nayeon tugs the cuffs of Jihyo’s hoodie lower over her hands and cuddles into it. It’s definitely a perfect day to stay in bed, she thinks wistfully.

From somewhere behind her, there’s a rustle of sheets followed by a soft groan that can only be Jeongyeon. Nayeon turns around and bites back a smile at Jeongyeon’s sleep-drunk gaze.

“Too early to be up,” Jeongyeon grumbles. She barely manages to stifle a yawn, then shoots Nayeon a baleful glare. The effect is lost somewhat — Jeongyeon’s messy hair and the pillow creases on her cheek only make her look endearingly adorable instead of threatening.

Nayeon can’t resist. She steps towards the bed again and smoothes Jeongyeon’s fringe away from her face. Nayeon allows herself a fond smile when Jeongyeon’s eyes flutter at the touch. “I’m first in line for hair and makeup today. Go back to sleep.”

Jeongyeon’s eyes are still closed but she grumbles again, something indistinct that pulls the sides of her mouth into a pout. It’s _cute_ and while Nayeon will normally not miss out on a chance to tease, she would rather Jeongyeon get as much rest as possible, especially with her injury.

So, she says nothing and simply waits for Jeongyeon to settle back under the covers. Something in her heart blooms when Jihyo — still fast asleep — curls into Jeongyeon’s side with a contented sigh.

“See you later, Jeongie,” Nayeon murmurs, pressing a swift kiss to Jeongyeon’s temple and then leaning over Jeongyeon to kiss Jihyo’s cheek too.

  
  


Nayeon isn’t expecting anyone to be awake when she steps into the dorm she shares with Sana and Momo. All three of them aren’t exactly morning people, preferring to sleep in whenever they can and waking up long after the sun has risen.

Which is why Nayeon is surprised to find Sana at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of coffee while scrolling through her Instagram feed.

“You’re up early,” Nayeon greets, shuffling past Sana to pour herself some coffee too.

“So are you,” Sana shoots back, lips quirking into a faint smirk. There’s a glint in her eye that Nayeon can’t quite figure out. “You’re doing your walk of shame extra early today.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sana’s smirk only widens, sending alarm bells ringing in Nayeon’s head. Sana only ever gets that look on her face when she’s stirring up some sort of trouble. The kind that Nayeon either partakes in with gleeful delight or gives her something akin to a migraine if she’s not joining Sana in her mischief.

Nayeon takes a sip of her coffee. If anything, it feels better to be fully alert and mentally capable of dealing with whatever scheme is currently whirring in Sana’s head.

“I’m talking about _you_.” Sana takes a sip of coffee too, and then lowers her mug to stare pointedly at Nayeon. “And how you sneak into our dorm every morning like you’re coming home after a one night stand with smeared makeup and in yesterday’s clothes.”

Nayeon blinks because _what?_ She’s thankful for having the foresight and presence of mind to not drink any more of her coffee as Sana speaks. She’s single-handedly saved both of them from having to deal with spilt coffee this early in the morning.

“Firstly, I’m not wearing any makeup,” Nayeon begins, articulating her words in the kind of voice she normally reserves for when she’s trying to reason with her three-year-old cousin. “Secondly, what do you mean _one night stand_ ? I was having a _sleepover_ with Jeongyeon and Jihyo. And lastly, I’m not even wearing yesterday’s clothes.”

“No,” Sana says with an annoyingly smug grin. “You’re wearing _Jihyo’s_ hoodie. Which is in fact, more telling.”

Nayeon narrows her eyes, resisting the urge to give Sana’s leg a harsh kick under the table. “More telling of _what_ , exactly?”

Sana’s smile dims, losing its glimmer to the clouds of confusion gathering in her eyes. She tilts her head and searches Nayeon’s face, appraising her intently for a second or two. Then she leans back in her seat, heaving a sigh that manages to sound both exasperated and condescending.

“You still don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

Sana just purses her lips, as if weighing her next words carefully. The way she’s staring at Nayeon as she does it makes Nayeon feel off-kilter, like Sana is methodically dissecting everything Nayeon is holding inside herself and making sense of things — connecting the dots and mapping out Nayeon’s entire soul.

“Do you remember your first impressions of Jeongyeon and Jihyo?”

Nayeon takes a second to process the sudden shift in topic, but Sana’s always been wonderfully unpredictable, articulating thoughts that are as varied in constellations as there are stars in the universe. And it’s always been infinitely easier to just go along with wherever Sana decides to take the conversation to.

“Of course,” Nayeon says, deeming it safe to take another long sip from her mug. She lets the warmth from the coffee overflow and sweep her into the warm memories she still holds dear. “I bumped into Jeongyeon — literally — when she pulled open the door of the practice room I was trying to leave. She was super shy back then and barely said hi, trying to shrink away underneath her hoodie. But the next day, I bumped into her again — she was wearing that same bright red hoodie and blue jean shorts, I think — and she sort of smiled at me? And then I just asked if she wanted to go have ddeokbokki after practice and that’s when I realised she’s actually quite fun to be around once she starts opening up a little.”

Nayeon pauses her rambling, her mind rifling through the pages of her teenage years and wandering down the length of the old JYPE corridors. "And Jihyo... I met her on my third day at the company. She was tiny — even tinier than she is now — just this thirteen-year-old scrawny kid with big eyes and an oversized Snoopy t-shirt. I remember thinking she must be a foreign trainee — she was so _pretty_. Jihyo was even more timid than Jeongyeon was but I kept bringing her Chocopies and sharing peach jellies with her — I kept bothering her, I guess? — and then one day, she just came along when Jeongyeon and I went for ddeokbokki after practice. And the three of us… we just kind of hit it off. We’ve been close ever since.”

Sana hums, the only sound she’s made since Nayeon started recalling the time she first met her best friends. “It’s been ten years, but you still remember every detail.”

Sana doesn’t phrase her words as a question, but there’s unrestrained curiosity in the way she has her chin cupped in one hand and waits patiently for Nayeon’s answer.

Nayeon frowns, still feeling weirdly off-balance. “Both of them are impossible to forget. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

 _And I never want to_ , Nayeon thinks to herself.

Sana hums again, lips quirking upwards into a soft smile. “They’re your girls.”

Nayeon blinks. She’s starting to get the feeling that this entire conversation has slipped past her, drawn further away by the sparkle in Sana’s eye. So, she says what’s always been the simplest truth, the one constant that has never wavered no matter how much her life has changed over the years. “Of course they are. I can’t live without either of them.”

Infuriatingly, Sana hums yet again. She looks very much like she’s trying to stop herself from bursting into triumphant giggles. “Which is why you’re always sneaking back into our dorm from your sleepovers, right?”

Nayeon has no idea what’s so amusing or why Sana insists on bringing up the sleepovers like they’re something _more_. But she doesn’t quite trust herself to find the words to articulate any of that out loud. So, she opts to deflect instead, to gain some semblance of upper hand.

“You sleep in Momo’s bed all the time!”

It comes out more defensive than casually deflective, and Nayeon winces inwardly when Sana actually does start to laugh.

“Exactly, unnie.” Sana says in between chuckles. She reaches out and pats Nayeon’s hand a few times, offering some kind of comfort Nayeon isn’t sure she needs. “You should go shower or you’ll be late. You’re up first for hair and makeup today, right?”

Sana doesn’t wait for an answer. She gives Nayeon’s hand one last squeeze before disappearing into her room, leaving Nayeon alone at their kitchen table with a lukewarm mug of coffee and a flurry of thoughts swirling in her mind.

There’s a strange, nameless emotion growing larger and larger inside her, clamouring to be felt and acknowledged. It only makes Nayeon feel more wrong-footed, like there are missing puzzle pieces she needs to put together.

But before she can examine the feeling more closely, her alarm blares again, rudely pulling her back into a reality where her only immediate concern is to take the quickest shower possible before their manager shows up to pick her up.

  
  


The inexplicable feeling continues to haunt Nayeon’s thoughts for days afterwards, a ghost that lingers stubbornly at the back of her mind. While it’s easy to ignore in the hurricane fury of her everyday schedule, the moments before sleep create a different kind of tempest entirely. Nayeon almost feels like she’s drowning, sinking further and further under the sea as the sleepless nights pass by and the realisation of what the emotion _is_ begins to slowly take shape. 

It’s no less terrifying once she’s finally managed to put a name to it. 

  
  


/

  
  


Jeongyeon isn’t expecting anyone to be home when she drops by the dorm she shares with Jihyo and Mina. It’s one of their rare days off, and she knows Jihyo’s out camping with her family while Mina had mentioned something about heading to the COEX aquarium with Sana and Momo. 

Which is why Jeongyeon is surprised to hear Ariana Grande and a soft voice singing along when she walks into the living room. She wanders further into the dorm, passing by her own room and Jihyo’s, to the room right at the end. 

Mina doesn’t notice Jeongyeon at first, too absorbed in packing what looks like the entire contents of her wardrobe into large luggage bags. Jeongyeon stands on the threshold and simply watches, brows crinkled in confusion. _Is Mina spring cleaning?_

The song Mina is singing along to comes to an end and she reaches for her phone on the bedside table. Jeongyeon watches as Mina scrolls through her playlist and figures now is a good time as any to make her presence known.

“Mina?” Jeongyeon chuckles when Mina gives a little yelp of surprise and drops her phone. She walks into the room, trying not to trip over the many piles of clothes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” Mina asks, sweeping a pile of unfolded t-shirts off her bed and making space for Jeongyeon to sit. “I thought you wanted to spend the day at home with your family?” 

“I wanted to get some things for —” Jeongyeon breaks off, feeling a lump rise in her throat. It’s so stupid to feel like crying over something that’s been planned in her schedule for days. “It’s silly but I just wanted to get my lucky hoodie. To bring with me to the — to the hospital tomorrow.” 

Mina’s eyes soften. In a flash, she’s sitting beside Jeongyeon, a solid presence for Jeongyeon to lean on. Mina hums, a soft, reassuring note that settles the storm brewing in Jeongyeon’s chest. Her hand hovers over Jeongyeon’s knee, palm up. Jeongyeon takes the comfort that Mina offers, lacing their fingers together. 

“It’s not silly to want your lucky hoodie with you when you’re heading for a surgery, unnie,” Mina murmurs, squeezing Jeongyeon’s hand.

Jeongyeon sighs, a soft exhale that sounds like the snap of a twig broken underfoot. To her horror, she feels tears stinging the corner of her eyes. “I’m terrified. I don’t — I don’t really do well with needles.” 

Mina squeezes her hand again, thumb smoothing over Jeongyeon’s knuckles. “On the bright side, you’ll be asleep throughout the whole procedure. You won’t even feel it.”

A watery chuckle slips out of Jeongyeon's lips — she can’t really help herself when Mina’s looking at her with that crooked half-smile, eyes glimmering warmth, reassurance and comfort all at once.

“That’s one way to look at it.” Jeongyeon uses her free hand to swipe roughly at her cheeks, catching the few tears that did manage to escape. “Thanks, Mina.”

Mina doesn’t reply, just reaches up and uses the sleeve of her sweater to dab at the spots Jeongyeon missed. Jeongyeon allows Mina to fuss over her; it feels good to be taken care of like this. 

“Are you spring cleaning?” Jeongyeon asks, as Mina pulls back and gives her the softest of smiles.

Mina’s smile dissolves, her face pinching into a tiny frown instead. “Oh. I thought one of them would have told you.”

“Told me what?”

“I’m switching dorms with Nayeon-unnie.” 

“Switching?” Jeongyeon can’t really keep the surprise out of her voice. “Why?”

Something flickers in Mina’s gaze, a flash too fast for Jeongyeon to read. Then her lips quirk into a smile, the kind that barely holds together an open secret. “Your girls just want to take care of you.” 

“They’re not mine,” Jeongyeon says automatically, without even letting herself think about it. Because they’re _not_. They’re her best friends, two of the most important people in her life. They paint the everyday grey of her world with brilliant shades of light and a kaleidoscope of colours. And Jeongyeon can no longer remember what her world looks like without their iridescence shining through. 

But Nayeon and Jihyo aren’t — they’re not _hers_ in the way that —

Mina must be able to read how Jeongyeon’s thoughts are starting to fray, because her thumb soothes over the back of Jeongyeon’s hand again. 

“But you want them to be?” Mina asks carefully. She’s always been perceptive, but Mina normally keeps any conclusions she’s drawn to herself, preferring to let her friends connect the dots for themselves. On the rare occasion where she does step in, it’s always with a quiet kind of tenderness, almost like she’s gently nudging things along. 

“It’s okay if you do, unnie.” Mina continues in that same calming tone, thumb never pausing its delicate journey up and down Jeongyeon’s knuckles. “You know that, right?” 

Jeongyeon barely hears the question over the sudden thundering of her heartbeat in her own ears.

She takes a deep breath, the denial already shaping itself into hard pebbles that weigh her tongue down. But all that manages to escape her lips is a shaky exhale. Mina’s question lingers heavy in the air between them, and Jeongyeon is starting to find it harder and harder to breathe. Her heart is a hummingbird against her ribs and her thoughts have clouded over. Something very much like blind panic trembles up her spine and it’s _terrifying_. 

So, Jeongyeon latches on to the one thing that always settles her nerves and takes the edge of anxiety away. 

She allows herself to fall backwards in time to a harsh winter afternoon in 2014:

  
  


It’s snowing again when Jeongyeon steps out of the JYPE building. The snow falls in feather-like flakes, swirling in the wind. The sky is starting to darken, the winter sun forced to disappear beneath the horizon to make way for curtains of inky black sky. 

Jeongyeon sighs, zipping up her winter jacket and then heading briskly down the street. There’s an overhead bridge just around the corner where she knows she’s likely to find what she’s looking for. 

Sure enough, when she turns the corner, she catches the familiar sight of Jihyo, standing on the bridge and looking out at the busy street and the distant horizon. 

“It’s freezing out here, Jihyo-yah,” Jeongyeon calls out when she reaches the bottom of the bridge. Jihyo’s tiny face peers down at her over the metal railings of the bridge. She doesn’t look surprised to see Jeongyeon, but she also makes no move to come down.

With another sigh, Jeongyeon climbs up and slides into place beside her best friend. “It’s _freezing_ . We should head back to the practice room. Where it’s _warm_ and not snowing.” 

Jeongyeon watches as Jihyo exhales, the bitter wind sweeping her sigh away with a flurry of snowflakes. She turns to Jeongyeon, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. There are flecks of snow dissolving on her hair and the shoulders of her coat. Jeongyeon reaches over without having to think about it, brushing the snowflakes away and then carefully running her thumb over the barely-dried tear tracks on Jihyo’s face. 

“Don’t let what they say get to you, Jihyo-yah,” Jeongyeon murmurs, feeling the sharp burn of concern flaring in her chest at the way Jihyo’s eyes turn wet again. “You’re beautiful, okay? Just the way you are. _Fuck_ what they say.” 

Jihyo lets out a watery chuckle at the curse. “I know. I just —” 

Whatever Jihyo was about to say is lost over the indignant shout that comes from the other end of the bridge. “It’s fucking freezing!” 

Both of them turn and watch as Nayeon stomps up the stairs and then makes her way over to them, her face pinched into a scowl.

“Of course it is,” Jeongyeon points out, taking in the way Nayeon shivers in just her oversized hoodie. “You're not wearing your padded jacket.” 

Nayeon merely huffs, not bothering to argue with Jeongyeon’s logic when she knows she’s going to end up on the losing end. With a roll of her eyes, Jeongyeon unzips her jacket and hands it to her ridiculously stubborn best friend. Nayeon glowers at her for sixteen seconds (Jeongyeon counts in her head) before taking the jacket and putting it on. 

“Can we stay here for a while before we go back?” Jihyo asks in a small, defeated voice Jeongyeon hates to hear.

She nods, at the same time as Nayeon’s fierce _of course_. Both she and Nayeon have never quite learnt the art of saying no and denying Jihyo anything she wanted. And especially not when Jihyo is still feeling upset over the unnecessarily harsh comments from their company representatives. 

“Here,” Nayeon says, shoving a can of coffee into Jeongyeon’s hand and then handing Jihyo a box of orange juice. “We’ll head back after we finish our drinks, okay?”

“ _Where_ were you hiding these?” Jeongyeon watches as Nayeon pokes the straw through her own box of orange juice and slurps loudly. 

“A magician never tells.” The words come out muffled around the straw in Nayeon’s mouth and Jeongyeon barely resists the urge to roll her eyes again. 

It’s silent for a while; the three of them slowly sipping their drinks and looking down at the passing traffic below. But it’s the kind of silence Jeongyeon has grown to appreciate, the comfortable kind born out of years of sharing almost every day of the last four years of her life with the two girls beside her.

“To hell with all the diets,” Nayeon proclaims, shattering the peace. She crushes her empty juice box in her hand, wrinkling her nose when a dribble of liquid runs over her knuckles. Wordlessly, Jeongyeon fishes out her handkerchief and dabs at Nayeon’s sticky hand.

Nayeon’s lips quirk slightly, a silent _thank you_ , but there’s still a wildfire blazing in her eyes. “After we debut together, we’ll become the _best_ girl group and bring in _tons_ of money and then they won’t be able to stop us from eating whatever we want, whenever we want.” 

Nayeon’s fierce conviction carries its own brand of hypnosis. Jeongyeon finds herself nodding along even though she knows logically, it’s highly unlikely they’ll ever be able to forget watching what they eat even after they’re successful; it’s just the reality for this path they’ve chosen to walk on.

But at least they’ll be together, Jeongyeon thinks as Nayeon links their arms and then reaches for Jihyo too. Hand in hand, the three of them make their way back to the JYPE building where another night of endless dance practice waits. 

  
  


“Unnie?” Mina’s voice reels Jeongyeon back to shore but instead of feeling warm sand beneath her feet, Jeongyeon feels like a tidal wave of icy water has just crashed over her. 

Because it's always been Nayeon and Jihyo. Whenever she needs a safe place, it's always both of them that she falls into. They are the constant rays of sunshine that chase all her stormy greys away. And Jeongyeon can no longer remember what her world looks like without their light. Selfishly, Jeongyeon finds herself yearning to have them shine on her forever. 

Jeongyeon takes in a shaky breath, feeling water in her lungs. She's drenched in the realisation that she does _want_ . She wants both Nayeon and Jihyo to be _hers_ in a way that far transcends friendship, in a way that’s _more_. She wants them in a way that she’s never wanted anything or anyone else before. 

“I — I don’t know how I never —” Jeongyeon's voice quivers, a trembling leaf that's no match for the whirlwind tearing through her. It’s too much. She’s feeling too much.

“You are the most caring person I’ve ever met,” Mina tells her, lips quirking into a tender smile. “You take care of everyone like it’s second nature. Nayeon-unnie and Jihyo aren’t exceptions, which is why you probably never realised until now that you care for them a lot more than you care for anyone else.”

“What if — what if they don’t feel the same?” Jeongyeon whispers, hating how her words come out splintered and raw, cracked apart with too much emotion.

Mina’s smile doesn’t waver. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, unnie.” 

  
  


/

  
  


Somewhere between their second and third schedule for the day, Jihyo makes her escape. It gets overwhelming sometimes, the pressure of looking perfect on camera, of being _Twice’s Jihyo_ instead of just her. And sometimes, Jihyo just needs a quiet minute away from the flurry of hair products, stage makeup and flashing camera lights. 

No one stops her when she walks out of the cottage they’re filming in for their new album jacket. She’s grateful that most of the staff working with them have learnt how to read Jihyo’s moods, and graciously allow her just a minute or two to breathe.

There’s a small stream not far away from the cottage and Jihyo walks towards it, enjoying how spring embraces her skin in the same gentle way that butterfly wings greet the air. She settles in the middle of the wooden bridge that arches over the stream and breathes in the quiet moment. It’s lovely, the way dappled sun rays catch on fresh green leaves and the clear water below sings in reflected notes of sunlight. 

Jihyo’s so occupied with drinking everything in that she doesn’t hear the footsteps on the bridge until Nayeon slides into place beside her. 

“You okay?” Nayeon’s voice is light but when Jihyo turns to her, she catches the flicker of concern that passes over her best friend’s face. 

Jihyo fits herself against Nayeon’s edges, resting her head on Nayeon’s shoulder; Nayeon is just that bit taller than her so that it’s not uncomfortable. Nayeon’s arm wraps around her waist, soothing up and down Jihyo’s side.

“I just needed a minute,” Jihyo murmurs. She doesn’t explain why; Nayeon has always been able to understand everything she leaves unspoken anyway. 

Nayeon hums in reply, squeezing Jihyo in a kind of one-armed hug that should be awkward but only reminds Jihyo of warm summer nights after practice and the most treasured memories from her growing up years.

“Want orange juice?” Jihyo frowns, pulling away from Nayeon’s hold to stare at her. Nayeon’s heart-shaped lips curve into that familiar wide bunny-toothed grin. She tucks her hands into the pockets of her very branded, very very expensive dress pants and pulls out two boxes of orange juice. “We’ll head back inside after we finish our drinks, okay?”

Jihyo bites back the scolding on the tip of her tongue — she’s sure their stylist will have a heart attack at Nayeon carrying boxes of fruit juice in the sponsored 4 million won pants she’s wearing — and accepts the juice Nayeon is offering.

“Thank you, unnie,” she says around the straw in her mouth, feeling the smile tugging insistently on the corner of her lips. 

Nayeon hums again, slurping at her own juice box. “It reminds me of our trainee days. You, me and Jeongyeonnie taking breaks from dance practice at the convenience store. You and I always had orange juice and Jeongyeonnie drank shitty canned coffee. Remember?”

“Of course,” Jihyo says as the memories unfold in her mind, filling her heart with too much warmth and unbearable fondness for Nayeon and Jeongyeon, who were with her every single step of the way. Then, and even now. 

“The juice we drank then tasted the best too.”

Jihyo can’t help the laugh that bubbles up her throat at the way Nayeon scrunches up her nose in thought. “All orange juice tastes the same.”

“No, they don't!” 

Jihyo laughs again, marvelling at how Nayeon can manage to pout and look affronted at the same time. 

“Yes they do,” a familiar voice sounds right next to Nayeon’s ear, making her shriek and then smack Jeongyeon’s shoulder when she realises who it is. 

“You’re an ass, Yoo Jeongyeon.” Nayeon’s scowl is ugly and pronounced, but Jihyo can see the hint of a smile shining through Nayeon’s faux annoyance. Jihyo understands though — it’s hard to stay annoyed at Jeongyeon when they’re all just happy to have her back after her hiatus.

“Can I have some?” Jeongyeon asks, shifting around so that she fits between Jihyo and Nayeon easily like she always has for more than a decade now. 

Jeongyeon chuckles when two straws are offered to her. She compromises and takes a sip out of each and then a strange look passes over her face, one that Jihyo cannot read at all. It sends alarm bells ringing in Jihyo’s head because Jeongyeon has always been an open book, and Jihyo has never had trouble making constellations out of her scattered thoughts. Before Jihyo can ask about it though, the strange look on Jeongyeon’s face dissolves into a familiar crooked smile instead. 

“Thank you,” Jeongyeon murmurs. It’s quiet, almost reverent, as though there are layers of words hidden underneath the gratitude. Neither Jihyo nor Nayeon replies; they’ve both learnt to wait patiently as Jeongyeon finds her words. “For waiting for me.” 

_We would have waited forever_ , Nayeon says at the same time as Jihyo’s emphatic _There’s nowhere else we’d rather be._

As Jeongyeon’s crooked smile widens into a beautiful heart-breaking grin, Jihyo thinks that it’s true. There really is nowhere she would rather be than here, with the two people who have shaped her entire life in so many inexplicable ways. 

  
  


They’re at the third schedule of the day when Jihyo is struck by the uncanny feeling of deja vu. The nine of them are doing a Vlive show to celebrate their best Vlive moments of the year and have just transitioned to the part in the programme lineup where they have to go down the line and compliment each other. 

Like the previous Vlive award show where they did exactly the same thing, Jihyo is seated together with Nayeon and Jeongyeon. The only difference is that she’s the one sandwiched in the middle now. 

When her turn comes around, Jihyo is supposed to be complimenting Jeongyeon, who’s sitting to her left. But in that fraction of a second as she pauses to think of what to say, her mind takes her backwards in time to the previous Vlive show when the three of them were too awkward to truly say what they meant. And then her thoughts reshape themselves into the moment on the bridge from just hours earlier, and sharpens into the clarity that followed in the footsteps of Jeongyeon’s crooked smile. 

Instinctively, Jihyo puts down her microphone and reaches for her two best friends. Her heart trembles through a shaky beat at the ease that Nayeon tangles their fingers together and at the way Jeongyeon is quick to squeeze her hand in gentle reassurance.

“I would never have —” Jihyo breaks off as a swell of emotion threatens to choke her. A part of her — the part that’s the successful Kpop idol — knows that there’s no way the audience can hear her clearly without the microphone. 

But it doesn’t matter. Her words aren’t meant for them.

“I would never have made it to where I am today if not for — if not for both of you. Thank you for being with me, especially during the hard times. I love you both very much. Thank you for always staying.” 

  
  
It’s almost midnight by the time Jihyo climbs into one of the company vans for the ride back home. She slips into the seat next to Momo, sighing as she buckles her seat belt. Chaeyoung turns around to raise a questioning eyebrow, but settles down when Jihyo shoots her a small (and what she hopes is reassuring) smile. She’s out like a light before their manager even exits the carpark, head nodding off against the car window.

“Corn chip?” Momo offers, holding out a bag of chips for her. Jihyo takes a handful and it’s quiet for a while, with only the sound of their munching disturbing the peace. Neither of them are inclined to initiate conversation, perfectly content with the silence and watching Seoul flash by outside the car windows. 

It’s only when they’re almost nearing their dorm twenty minutes later that Jihyo finally dares to give voice to the question that’s been swirling around in her head ever since the Vlive award show earlier. 

“Momo?” She gains the tiniest bit of courage when Momo turns to her, eyes bright even in the shadowed darkness inside the car. “Do you — do you think it’s possible to fall in love with your best friends?” 

“Of course,” Momo replies easily, without even a second of hesitation. There is a kindness lighting up her face that Jihyo tries to take comfort in. 

“And if — if you date them? Is that — is that weird?” Jihyo hates how her voice shakes, tripping over the syllables. 

Momo’s forehead crinkles. She tilts her head and looks at Jihyo with a look she cannot fathom at all. “How is it weird? Aren’t you, Jeongyeonnie and Nayeon-unnie already dating? Everyone knows.”

Jihyo’s heart jolts nastily, coming to a rest somewhere in her throat. “What —”

She never gets the opportunity to continue though; the car pulls to a stop in front of their apartment block and at the same time, Chaeyoung wakes up with a loud yawn and then they’re all gathering their things to get out of the car.

There’s barely time to catch Momo alone again, not when the three of them are walking into the lobby and into the lift. Momo’s words echo in Jihyo’s head though, looping over and over until they occupy every single inch of her thoughts.

By the time Jihyo enters the apartment, Momo’s words are so loud in her mind that she’s starting to hyperventilate. Hearing the sound of Jeongyeon’s soft voice filtering in from her room only makes the panic skyrocket until it’s almost unbearable. Jihyo cannot breathe. She needs to — 

Before she fully registers what she’s doing, Jihyo’s already forcing her way into Jeongyeon’s room. It doesn’t help that she recognises the Ralph Lauren sweater (Nayeon’s) draped over the back of Jeongyeon’s armchair and then notices a box of multivitamins (hers) on the bedside table. Jeongyeon’s whole room is full of bits and pieces that belong to Jihyo or Nayeon, and Jihyo’s breath hitches dangerously. 

_Aren’t you, Jeongyeonnie and Nayeon-unnie already dating?_

Dimly, as though she’s seeing everything underwater, Jihyo registers Jeongyeon hanging up on her mother and putting her phone away. 

“Jihyo?” Jeongyeon’s gaze is heavy with genuine concern. She shifts awkwardly on the bed, as if she wants to come closer to Jihyo but then decided to keep giving Jihyo space instead. “What’s wrong?”

Jihyo’s heart trembles. “Can we — I need to talk — you and Nayeon — _please_.” 

She’s not sure how Jeongyeon will be able to understand any of the fractured sentences she just said but somehow, Jeongyeon does. Without a word, Jeongyeon picks up her phone again and calls Nayeon. Jihyo appreciates how Jeongyeon opts to stay with her instead of walking over to Nayeon’s room to get her.

Jihyo tunes their conversation out, opting to pace up and down the length of Jeongyeon’s room instead in an attempt to soothe her nerves. She only stops her frenzied pacing when Nayeon bursts into the room a minute later, half of her makeup still on her face.

“Jihyo? You okay?” Nayeon’s trying to sound calm but Jihyo can hear the undercurrent of panic in her tone. “Whatever it is, we’re here for you. Will you tell us what’s wrong?” 

Jihyo freezes in the middle of the room, caught between Jeongyeon sitting on the bed and Nayeon just on the threshold of the room. If that’s not yet another goddamn sign, Jihyo doesn’t know what is. 

“Everyone thinks the three of us are dating,” she blurts out, immediately wincing at the stunned silence that follows her words. 

A beat passes. And then two. And then finally, just when Jihyo can no longer bear the awkward silence, Jeongyeon breaks it with a quivering voice. 

“Would it be so bad if we were?” 

“No,” Nayeon says before Jihyo can even find the words. “It wouldn’t be.” 

Jihyo swallows past the lump in her throat and dares to find Nayeon’s gaze, only to realise that Nayeon is much much closer than Jihyo realised. A shaky hand cups her face and Jihyo can’t help the way her breath hitches when Nayeon’s thumb brushes tenderly over her cheek. Nayeon’s gaze searches over Jihyo’s face, lingering on her lips and Jihyo is seized with a sudden yearning to find out what it’s like to close the sliver of distance between them. 

“It’s _terrifying_. But it’s not bad,” Nayeon whispers, just before she leans in and kisses Jihyo softly, the answer to all of Jihyo’s unspoken longing. 

Jihyo’s heart is hammering painfully against her ribs when Nayeon pulls away, tipping their foreheads together. She shivers when she feels gentle arms winding around her waist and a feather-light kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth. 

“I’m in love with both of you,” Jeongyeon confesses, words searing into Jihyo’s skin. “I think I always have been.” 

“Me too,” Nayeon murmurs, shifting slightly so she can kiss Jeongyeon too. 

Jihyo watches them and something in her heart overflows, flooding her veins with the undeniable truth, with the unshakeable feeling that this is _right_. 

This is how it should be. This is how the three of them were always meant to be. 

When they break apart to breathe, Jihyo seizes her chance; it’s only fair that she gets to steal a kiss from Jeongyeon too. So she tugs on the collar of Jeongyeon’s shirt until their lips meet, tasting the edges of Jeongyeon’s crooked smile. 

There’s watery laughter feathering over Jihyo’s ear and then Nayeon nuzzles into the crook of her neck. 

Jihyo has never felt more loved than now, right here in the arms of her best friends, the two people she loves so much more than she can ever find the words for. 

  
  


_There’s nowhere else I’d rather be_ , Jihyo thinks later when the three of them are snug beneath the covers, Jihyo laying on Jeongyeon’s chest with Nayeon curled around her other side. She falls asleep to the lullaby Nayeon’s fingers soothe over the crest of her hip, a tune that’s somehow in harmony with the steady rhythm of Jeongyeon’s heartbeat beneath her ear. 

**Author's Note:**

> @skyclectic on twitter and curious cat. so, come drop by to say hi or share your thoughts or ask me anything, really. <3
> 
> i also have a Ko-Fi now (ko-fi.com/skyclectic) and if this fic or any others i have written have touched you in any way and you would like to support me by getting me a Ko-Fi, i would be very very thankful too. <3


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